Ready or Not
by certifiedfangirl67
Summary: Set in the mid-1950s. Balthazar takes his turn for babysitting duty, keeping watch over six-year-old Samandriel, when a routine game of hide-and-seek takes an unexpected turn. For Holly.
1. Chapter One

**((Set sometime in the mid-1950s. Balthazar takes his turn for babysitting duty, keeping watch over six-year-old Samandiriel, when a routine game of hide-and-seek takes an unexpected turn. For Holly))**

**CHAPTER ONE**

"Ready or not, here I come!" Samandiriel squealed loudly from his position by the monkey bars. The sun was beginning to set on the quiet little park where Balthazar hid, it being his turn to entertain the fledgling. He listened as the boy's feet crunched through the sand, ran up every jungle gym and down every slide, in search of his big brother. Balthazar chuckled softly as he laid on his side, head propped up on his elbow, in the old brick volcano that had been cemented shut years before. Samandiriel's shoes scraped against the brick as he climbed his way to the top of the small mountain and perched on its peak. He could sense that his brother was nearby, but couldn't see him. He wasn't ready to give up just yet. He stood up on his mountain top, cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "I'm gonna find you, Balthazar!" He slid down the side of the volcano and skittered to the other side of the park.

Balthazar sat up in his small cave and, grinning, manifested himself a glass of wine. He shook his head slightly. _This child is going to take forever, _he thought as he took a sip. Sighing, he settled back against the brick, wondering how long it would be before he heard the small voice calling for help. His hand was raised to refill his glass when there was a sudden rush of air and a pair of big blue-green eyes were trained on him. "Gotcha!" Samandiriel barked, pointing at the surprised angel.

Balthazar snapped his fingers and the wine glass disappeared. His eyebrows shot up and he displayed a broad grin. "Yes, you sure did!" He nudged the child playfully, picked him up, threw him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, and transported them both back outside of the volcano. "Now what?"

Samandiriel giggled at hanging upside-down and his face lit up. "My turn! My turn!" He barely gave Balthazar a chance to respond before he wiggled out of his grasp and took off in search of the perfect hiding spot.

Balthazar plopped down at the base of a slide, laid back against it and draped an arm over his eyes. "One… two… three," he began, smiling when he heard Samandiriel try to conceal a squeal of delight. Balthazar had a pretty good idea of where the boy would hide; they'd been playing for hours now, and there were only so many stones left unturned.

Samandiriel turned in circles, determined to hide where his big brother would never think to look, completely unaware that while Balthazar's eyes were covered, there was another pair of eyes intensely focused on him.

"Forty-seven, forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty!" Balthazar hauled himself up off of the slide and stretched out, taking an initial glance around the park for any sign of the child's hiding place. "Ready or not, here I come!" he called out. He trudged through the giant sand box, keeping his eyes peeled for any outstanding feet, hands, or wing feathers. He climbed his way all through the enormous jungle gym, crawled the length of the tunnel, checked inside the brick volcano, all with no luck. _Kid's getting better at this,_ he hummed to himself.

His head snapped to the side at the sudden loudness of leaves rustling in the trees that surrounded the park. Balthazar rolled his eyes and started in the direction of the noise. "I thought we agreed on _no _tree-climbing?" he yelled as he approached the line of thick maples. He shielded his eyes from the sun as he scanned the branches for a miniature angel. They had gone almost eerily still, hardly quivering in the cool autumn breeze. Balthazar reached out with his grace in attempt to locate the fledgling's tree top of choice, and his brow furrowed when no connection could be made.

"Samandiriel?" He paused for a moment, concern growing in the pit of his stomach. "Come on, Manny, I give up! Ollie-ollie oxen free!" The silence that greeted him set off alarm bells in his head. He stepped closer to the tree where he sensed some residual angelic presence, and discovered traces of a very, very evil presence there as well. His eyes were drawn to a bright white object among the brown and red leaves that littered the ground; a single, perfect feather. Samandiriel was gone.


	2. Chapter Two

Samandiriel craned his neck, taking in the strange surroundings. He struggled against the ropes that bound his wrists and ankles, fought the strong arms that were wrapped around his chest, carrying him through a dimly lit tunnel and into a cold, concrete room. There were five other people in the room, all with frightening faces which were twisted by the human masks they covered up with. He whimpered through the thick bundle of cloth that invaded his mouth at the sight of a gleaming metal chair, which was reclined back and sat high up off of the floor.

The arms around his middle turned and forced him down onto the chair and, without warning, four other pairs of hands were grabbing at him, untying the ropes and fastening his limbs to the chair with thick leather straps decorated in Enochian sigils-the language of the angels. Panic set in and his whimpers turned to screams. Tears began to track streams from the corners of his eyes, and his chest heaved from his sobs. One of the demons, who took on the appearance of a middle-aged woman with dark hair and even darker eyes, stepped up to the chair and slapped her hand over the child's mouth, making him gag on the moistened fabric.

"Quiet!" she commanded. Samandiriel stared at her stern face, trying to obey, but his throat wouldn't comply as he continued to whimper loudly. She backhanded him across the face, and the shock caused his sobs to stop immediately. The boy couldn't control his lung spasms as she turned his chin toward her, forcing his frightened eyes to stay locked on her malicious features.

"Now," she spoke in a soft, controlled tone, "you're going to stay quiet like a good little boy, right?" He tied to swallow and another tear slipped out. An unfriendly smile formed on her face, puffing out her bony cheeks and crinkling her eyes. "Good," she said, patting his cheek. His gaze followed her across the room where she conversed in hush tones with the others.

"My lady, he is but a fledgling. Surely an adult's would be more efficient?"

The woman lashed out and struck the inquisitor's face, leaving deep gashes from her fingernails. "Do not question me! The younger the angel, the fresher it is, and the fresher it is, the easier it is to manipulate for our purposes. The child has not yet taken full control over it, and that gives us the advantage."

She walked back over to the small, shivering form that lay trapped in the chair. Before he could stop himself, Samandiriel let out a choked sob. "Shh," her cold, bony finger stroked his cheek, wiping away some of the tears. Her hand made its way to his hairline, where she brushed the sweaty locks from his forehead. "You have something I need, little one, but if you keep still and behave like a good boy, I promise it will all be over soon."

He shivered harder in the icy metal chair and tried as best he could to keep his tears at bay, holding onto that promise. She stayed there, stroking his hair for a few moments, but any sense of calm that had begun to creep over the child was quickly forgotten with her next simple words.

"Hold him down."

Rough hands were everywhere-on his knees, his shoulders, his head-there was no escape. Muffled sobs tore from his throat, despite his desire to obey. The woman stepped out of his line of sight and he used the moment to look at the other faces that surrounded him. Five shadowy, contorted faces looked back at him. _Please, let me go! I'll be good! Please, just let me go home! _he begged silently, but the stone faces were unrelenting.

The woman returned holding a large glass syringe with a long, thick hypodermic needle. Samandiriel's eyes widened in absolute terror and he struggled with all of the strength he could muster against the hands holding him. She put her free hand on the side of his jaw, forcing his head sideways. "I won't lie to you, sweetheart," she purred as she positioned the needle a couple of inches below his ear. "This is going to hurt." Samandiriel's high-pitched scream echoed all through the cement room as the needle pierced his skin. She pulled back on the plunger and a near-blinding glow lit up her pleased smirk.

The extraction was working.


	3. Chapter Three

_No, no, no, where are you? _Balthazar searched the woods frantically, looking for any other sign or clue as to where the boy could have gone off to. He followed the residual dark presence until he could no longer sense it, then began to search this new territory. He would tear down buildings if that's what it took to save the young angel from the evil that had captured him.

Balthazar closed his eyes and concentrated his energy, trying to communicate with his little brother. _Samandiriel? If you can hear me, tell me where you are. I'm coming for you. _He listened for a moment, but received only silence. He walked a bit further, keeping his mind open and his senses heightened, worried what the repercussions back home would be if he was unable to locate the boy.

Before he could even begin to imagine what punishment would befall him, a deafening scream pierced through the silence on his "angel radio." He grimaced in pain as the sound tore through him; only one thing could cause this alarming reaction: one of his siblings was close, and in terrible pain. "Manny!" he screamed aloud, his voice almost matching volume with the cry in his head. Determined, he pushed through and followed the sound as it gradually became louder and louder, until he found himself standing in front of large, heavy metal doors-the entrance to a maze of underground tunnels.

Balthazar's expression hardened as he tried not to think of what could be making his baby brother emit such an awful sound. He drew out his angel blade and relocated himself to stand just inside the door. The screams had softened into pained cries. _Hang on, Manny. I'm here, _he prayed as he approached the room that was teeming with a very dark evil. A loud crash resounded in the room as Balthazar blasted the door open. Several pairs of eyes were trained on him, some frightened, some menacing. He could just make out the small, trembling form that was laid out on the chair.

"Get away from my brother!" he commanded, charging toward the demon nearest him, angel blade poised to kill. A couple of the demons tried to evacuate their hosts, but Balthazar smote them with a snap of his fingers. His blade made contact with the demon who had his hold on Samandiriel's legs, and he slumped to the floor, dead. The glow from the half-filled syringe attracted the angel's attention. His eyes widened in disbelief. _Impossible... The only thing that can extract an angel's grace is anoth-_ his thoughts were cut off when a strong set of arms wrapped tightly around his neck and pulled him away from his now convulsing baby brother.

Balthazar whipped his blade-wielding arm behind him wildly, but the demon arched away and dodged the attack. Growling with rage, the angel gripped the arm that was constricting his airway and threw his body forward, hauling the demon up over his back and slamming him to the floor. He smashed his open palm to the beast's forehead and smote him in a quick flash of light, then stood himself up, seething, and made a beeline for the woman who held the vile instrument that was devouring his brother's life force. She tore the needle away from the boy's neck and held it up with a triumphant expression. Samandiriel let out a small whimper, then shuddered before going completely still.

Balthazar's eyes were fixed on her in a cold stare of pure hatred, his voice flat and murderous. "Give me the syringe and let him free, and I might consider killing you quickly," he bargained, holding out his empty hand. The woman grinned and snapped her fingers, removing the bonds on Samandiriel's legs, arms, and torso.

"Take him," she offered and held up the glowing syringe, "I got what I needed."

The angel gripped his blade tighter, his knuckles turning white, as he took another step forward. "I am not leaving here without that," he glanced pointedly at the device. "You will give it to me now, or after you're dead. I'm not particular on which option you choose."

The demon took a step toward Balthazar, placing herself between him and the boy lying motionless in the chair. "You silly little seraph, you have no idea what you're up against. I'm trying to be generous, now take the child and leave."

Balthazar raised his blade, ready to strike, and shouted, "Give me his grace! I will not ask again, demon!"

The woman merely blinked, then raised her eyebrows. "You should have taken my deal." She lifted her free hand and Balthazar was launched into the air just as a swarm of men-armed with all manner of guns and blades-charged inside.


	4. Chapter Four

The woman hissed as she took a splash of holy water to the face. She quickly backed away from the team of hunters who were brandishing flasks of the offending liquid, a multitude of silver, steel, and bronze knives, and assorted firearms. One man rushed over to the child lying in the chair to check his vitals, pressing his fingers under the boy's jawline to feel for a pulse. "He's alive! Let's get him out of here!" the man announced as he reached to scoop the small limp form into his arms.

As another man bent to help Balthazar up from the floor, the angel pleaded, "Wait! Leave him, please! He's my br- my son! He's my son!"

The room echoed with the shouts of men. _Stay back! Get on the ground! Drop the weapon! _The woman just laughed as she wiped the remaining wetness from her face. "You'll have to try harder than that, boys. It takes much more than salt and holy water to take down a Knight of Hell." She smirked at the confused faces before her and opened her mouth to speak again when a single gunshot sounded and her breath was momentarily taken away.

She looked up at the man who had the smoking barrel of his gun still aimed at her. "Well, it looks like I'm going to have to teach _someone _some-" she stopped speaking when she tried to take a step forward, but found herself rooted to the spot. Her fierce gaze returned to the man. "What did you do?" she demanded to know, placing her free hand over the wound in her abdomen.

"Devil's trap," he replied smugly, "carved right into the bullet. Neat little trick, ain't it?"

Four of the men approached her and carried her to the reclined chair where Balthazar was now stroking Samandiriel's forehead in worry. He felt vulnerable, surrounded by these hunters who had limited knowledge that a being like him even existed.

He bent down in front of the woman as she was forced to the floor and tied to the base of the cold metal chair. He clenched his fist and dislocated her jaw with a solid punch. "Look at me, you bitch," he said with an eerily calm voice as he grabbed her chin, forcing her to face him with a sickening _pop _as her joints realigned. "If you ever touch a member of my family again, I will personally ensure your death."

He released her face and ripped the glowing glass syringe from her hand. The man who had helped him up now put his hand on the angel's arm. "Whoa, buddy, you should put that down. We don't know what it does or what she was doing with it!"

Balthazar looked at the man with a hardened glare and spat, "But I _do._" He raised his hand and chanted an Enochian spell that rendered the human hunters unconscious. A quiet squeak brought his attention back to Samandiriel, who was now blinking against the light in the room. Balthazar stepped up next to the boy and lifted him off of the chair, one arm under his knees and the other supporting his neck and head. He carried the child to the other side of the room and sat down with him against the wall, cradling his weakened vessel in his lap. The boy tried to turn his head up to look at his big brother, but pinched his eyes shut and cried out in pain at the motion. Balthazar spoke softly to him, comforting him as best he could.

"You're all right now, Manny. I've got you. You're safe." He gently traced Samandiriel's jawline, coaxing him to lift his chin. "Let me see." The boy did as instructed, letting out a high-pitched whimper as he did so. "Shh, sorry. I'm sorry," he soothed as he inspected the needle puncture on Samandiriel's neck. The wound appeared to be magnified on such a small victim, swollen and beginning to bruise. Balthazar continued to softly shush him as he placed his open palm over the wound and healed it. He then made to dismantle the syringe and free Samandiriel's grace, but the boy caught sight of the vile utensil and began to squirm in Balthazar's lap, trying to get away from it. Balthazar moved the needle out of sight and tried to comfort the frightened child. "No, no, shh, it's all right. It's all right, now. I'm not going to hurt you. I won't let anyone else hurt you. Shh, shh…"

Samandiriel stopped attempting to move away, but could not stop his frail body from shaking in Balthazar's arms. The angel turned the boy so that he could bury his face in his brother's chest. "I've got you. You're safe now. It's all right." With the boy's eyes hidden, Balthazar pulled the glass syringe apart, allowing the grace inside to be released. He held the open end of the syringe close to the child's face and stroked his blonde hair. "Take some big breaths. It will come back to you." Samandiriel did as instructed, his face flushing with the rush of grace returning to him.

"That's it, that's a good boy," Balthazar coaxed. When the last of the glowing mist had returned to the fledgling, he tossed the empty half of the syringe aside, held the child closer to him and stood. Samandiriel closed his eyes and let his body go limp in the safety of his brother's arms. Balthazar placed a hand over the child's forehead, sending him a wave of calm. "Rest, little one. We're going home soon."

He crossed the room to confront the knight, who glared at him from her prison of ropes that bound her to the chair. If looks could kill, both angel and demon would be breathing their last. Balthazar spoke in a calm, dangerous tone. "I leave you at the mercy of these hunters, and trust me, they have none." He walked briskly from the room and, once outside, made a flight pattern straight for home.

The first thing the hunter noticed when he awoke was that it was quiet—far too quiet. He propped himself up into a sitting position and shook the grogginess from his head. He looked over—the woman was still tied down, but something was very wrong. Her hands were now hanging loose at her sides, covered in blood. He stood up and moved closer to inspect the grisly sight. Where there had previously been a small bullet hole in her stomach, there was now a gaping wound that was slowly draining out blood and other bodily fluids. On the floor next to the woman's still hand was the carved bullet that had been keeping the demon trapped. "Dammit," he grumbled.

A couple of his teammates were coming to, grunting and asking each other if they knew what had happened. "The demon's gone," he informed them as he picked up the discarded bullet. There were several murmurs of irritation as they regrouped and made sure none in their party had been harmed.

The man who had been nearest to Balthazar spotted the dismantled syringe on the ground and retrieved it. "Hey, guys," he called, bringing everyone closer, "What do you think she was using this for? It's empty now, but before… I've never seen anything like it."

He handed the pieces to the leader among them, who studied the markings engraved on it with a curious eye. "I don't know," he pondered. "We'd better get this to the suits. Have 'em archive it, see if they can figure it out." He reconnected the two halves of the syringe and stored it in his pocket. "Alright, boys, let's move out. We're headed back to Lebanon," he instructed. "Brewer, Finch, you guys take care of the salt 'n burn and catch up with us later."

The men nodded and got to work gathering the empty hosts, none having been left alive. A cloud of thick black smoke followed them out of the tunnel and was visible for several yards down the road.


	5. Epilogue

"Any clue what it is, Johnson?" the hunter asked, handing over the odd object to the director of the Men of Letters. Robert Johnson, or so he was known, observed the artifact for a few moments.

"Well, it looks like some sort of syringe, though whether it's intended for medical use, I can't quite say." He dug around in a drawer until he procured a magnifying glass. "I believe I have seen markings similar to this before, but we have not yet been able to translate them."

The hunter shifted position, crossing his arms. "A demon bitch had it. She was trying to inject this kid with something. I don't know what it was, but it was glowing a bright white."

Johnson hummed at this new information, then replaced the magnifying glass and turned to the man before him. "I'll have my men run some tests and study it further. We will inform you of any new findings." He held an arm out toward the door, gesturing for the hunter to take his leave.

The man grumbled, "Yeah, sure you will," as he exited the room.

Johnson closed the door behind him and turned back to observe the instrument more on his own. Try as he might, he couldn't place where he'd seen the strange markings before.

"Coffee?"

He jumped at the unexpected visitor to his office. A woman in a simple autumn dress that perfectly complemented her long, fiery curls was offering a steaming mug to him as she sipped from her own.

"Ah, Josie. Yes, thank you. It's going to be a long night, I think," he answered, accepting the drink.

"Why is that?" she asked.

"New project," he responded, stopping aside so she could have a look.

"Wow, interesting. Where did you find that?"

"I didn't. A team of hunters just brought it in."

She hummed. "Well, have fun, and don't stay up too late," she winked as she walked back out of the office. She smirked to herself as she made her way down the hall. "This place just might be worth sticking around a while." Her eyes flicked black as she laughed.


End file.
